Eulogy for my jogging stroller

Yesterday morning M (our part time nanny) was going to take the kids down to the park to play when she discovered the jogging stroller was missing. The jogging stroller was one of my favorite things of all time. It was far and away my favorite piece of gear. And some jackass stole it out of our garage on Wednesday afternoon. In broad daylight. While we were all at home.

So, I am left with this mess of feelings: the terrible sense of violation that comes with getting robbed; guilt over leaving the garage open; and my awkward and extreme discomfort over L's incessant questions,"Why would somebody take it from us?" "When will they bring it back?" I have no answers for her. Other than, "I just don't know, honey." Also, I am just plain sad. Sad that someone would steal from me, from my family. Sad that the stroller is gone and we can't afford another one.

I've been pushing the kids around the lake in that stroller since Julian could hold up his head. It has carried my kids while they were crying, fussy, happy, fighting, playing, hunting for ducks, counting dogs, and eating ice cream. We bought it when I was pregnant with J and determined to figure out a way to keep running even with two kids. And, the stroller made that possible. Even fun. It was comfortable, provided the kids with shade from the sun and wind, and it was super-light. Plus, it rolled straight and fast and turned on a dime. Granted, I'm not packing on the miles like I used to, and it is still really, really hard for me to get out more than a few times a week (despite the impending half-marathon I'm supposed to run), but it was always there for me. Waiting, providing the possibility of running. I'd load it up with snacks, exciting toys, sunhats, water, and whatever else the kids wanted, anything to keep them happy for a half-hour or 45-minute trip while I reconnected with myself.

Then there were the neighborhood walks. I can't count the number of times D and I have taken the thing around the neighborhood after dinner while J and L walked on their own, checking out the gardens and cats along the way. We always brought the stroller and it was a welcome place for the kids to hang out when they inevitably became "too tired to walk" back to the house for bed.

I am so sad that the stroller is gone. Underneath it all, of course, is this terrible guilt and disappointment. And I don't know how to explain it to the kids. How do I explain that no one is going to steal our car, their wagon, their toys from the back yard? (I don't even know that that is the case!) How do explain that we are in fact safe, when right now, I don't feel safe? I feel violated and crappy. Yesterday I made myself a half hour late for a meeting because halfway there I got nervous and raced home to close and lock all the windows.

I wish I had closed the garage on Wednesday afternoon.